I expected him to wake now that I was here, but he didn’t stir. I cautiously took off my shawl and moved closer. His shoes shone in the dancing light of the fire—polished by a servant.
And my foolish hopes tumbled.
This didn’t change anything. His presence here only prolonged the inevitable. He may have come to apologize—to say kind things that would make me feel better for a moment—but then he would return to his grandmother. And Philly.
This visit wasn’t a kindness; it was a turn of the knife.
Annoyance prickled. He’d entered my house and made himself at home—taken a nap—as if nothing had changed. As if I were still his woodland fairy, willing to accept whatever small part of himself he would share.
I saw butcher’s paper on the table and peeked inside to find bacon. A peace offering. I placed the bacon in a pan and set it over the fire.
It was the sizzling bacon that woke him.
He saw me crouched in front of the fire and quickly straightened, his eyes widening—as startled to find himself in my kitchen as I was. “Ah … sorry.” He stumbled to his feet. “I must have fallen asleep.”
I glanced at him, almost amused.
But I forced myself to be angry, turning back to the fire. “What are you doing here?” I prodded the bacon, and it popped in the pan.
“I … I brought that for you.” As if that weren’t obvious. His voice held a rasp from sleep.
“And you thought that entitled you to walk in and take a nap?”
“Sorry, I just … haven’t been sleeping well … and this room—I feel at home here.”
Of all things for him to say. A lump filled my throat, which I hid by pulling the pan off the fire and moving across the room to the worktable. I plucked the bacon out of the hot fat and set it on a plate, purposefully keeping my back to him, purposefully taking a long time. I cut a slice of bread—just one—then returned to the table and set the plate down hard, making the bacon bounce. I sat in front of it, facing the fire.
But my throat had a fist in it. I pushed the plate away.
“Why are you here, Rowan? I told you to stay away.” As if I hadn’t regretted those words a thousand times.
He stood between the table and the fire, as unsure of himself as I’d ever seen him. He swallowed, his throat rising and falling. “I came to explain.”
“Explain what? I told you to stay away, and you stayed away. There’s nothing to explain.” But the tight anger in my voice said otherwise.
“I’ve missed you,” he whispered.
A soft shudder rolled through me, but I fought it. “You haven’t looked lonely.”
His head tilted, his eyes sharpening. He released a ragged sigh. “You’ve seen me with Philly.”
I refused to look at him but was acutely aware as he pulled out a chair and sat across from me.
“You look furious,” he said.
I didn’t want to be furious. I didn’t want him to know how much it stung. “Maybe you shouldn’t sit so close. I kill people, in case you haven’t heard.”
“Don’t,” he said softly.
My heart danced between emotions—and I went with anger. “No, you don’t! You don’t get to just walk in here, fall asleep in my home, and act as if you belong here—as if you didn’t completely abandon me when I needed you most!”
“You told me—”
“I know what I told you, but that didn’t mean—” My voice caught.
He looked shaken by my temper. “I can explain.”
“Fine, then—explain.”
He ran his fingers over his lips, suddenly hesitant.
“Go on,” I insisted.
He drew a breath. “The day … the day after we found your father, my grandmother gave me two choices. Stop all association with you, or watch as you were convicted and hanged for murder.”
His husky voice captivated me. I tried to fight it, but my eyes lifted, and he drew me in.
“She thinks you killed them, Valentine. She’s sure of it. Someone told her they saw you entering the stable with Birdy, back in December.”
I shook my head, panic rising. “That isn’t true. I didn’t—”
“Of course you didn’t. It’s the person who killed them trying to make you look guilty. It has to be. But she won’t tell me who it is, and they’ve convinced her that you did it.”
My thoughts darted. If Mrs. Blackshaw was the murderer, she’d invented this story to convince Rowan. But I wasn’t sure how to tell him that—how to accuse his grandmother of murder with no evidence to back it up.
He continued in a low voice. “I told my grandmother that this person must be lying, that you would never hurt Birdy—or your father. But she thinks you’ve deceived me—that you want revenge over some financial deal with your grandfather. She thinks that’s the reason your mother killed my father. Revenge.”
“My mother didn’t—”
“I know,” he said gently, reaching across the table, but I pulled my hands back. “I’m just trying to explain what my grandmother thinks. Why she hates you so much. She thinks you’re trying to lure me in and ruin my reputation. Maybe even kill me. I know—it’s crazy, but that’s what she thinks. That’s what she tells me, over and over—that you’re out to destroy the Blackshaws. She’ll do anything to keep me away from you.”
I gritted my teeth. “She’s invented this stable witness.”
Rowan shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve seen her face when she talks about it. This person came to her for advice, not wanting to believe you’d do something so terrible. The problem is—my grandmother does believe it. For now, she’s persuaded this person to keep quiet.”
My eyes narrowed. “Why would she? A noose would be a convenient way to get rid of me.”
Rowan released a dry breath. “Negotiating power, her specialty. Like I said, she’s given me two choices. Stay away from you, and she’ll tell this witness to remain quiet, or continue our relationship, and she’ll tell them to go to Sheriff Crane.”
I swallowed against a tight throat. “One witness. My word against theirs.”
Rowan shook his head sadly. “It won’t stop there. There are people who will lie for my grandmother—plenty of them. People who love her. People who are afraid of her. They’ll say they saw you pouring poison down your father’s throat, if that’s what she wants. You will hang, Valentine.”
A chill ran through me because I knew he was right.
“She also threatened to have you expelled from Drake. After four years, you would have nothing to show for it.”
I gave a bitter laugh. “Which hardly matters if I’m dead. But she failed; I wasn’t expelled—I’m valedictorian.”
Rowan’s face softened. “Because I took her deal. The only reason the trustees let you be valedictorian is because my grandmother convinced them. Because I made her promise to support it.”
I remembered Mr. Foley’s words. You have surprising allies in high places, Miss Deluca. “Do I even deserve the award?”
“You know you do. But it was only because my grandmother insisted on it that the other trustees agreed.”
My mind sorted through all that he’d told me. “So … continue our relationship and I hang for murder. Or never speak to me again and I get to be valedictorian. Not a very equal bargain.”
“You get to live,” Rowan said simply.
“Ah, yes, there’s that.”
Rowan looked away, and I sensed there was more.
“What else?” I demanded.
“She’s agreed to let me attend Harvard, and after that, study architecture instead of law. She’s already written letters to arrange it—an apprenticeship with the best architect in the country, saving me a spot.”
“Ah.” I released a slow, surrendering breath, finally understanding. I couldn’t even fault him.
“I wouldn’t have agreed for that alone,” he said heavily. “You know that.”
“Do I? The career you’ve always dreamed of—or the girl wh
o killed your father? Not an agonizing decision.” I abruptly stood, scraping back my chair, unable to contain my frustration.
“Valentine.” Rowan stood with me. “I’ve dreamed of more than architecture.”
Maybe that was true, but it didn’t matter. “You made your pact with the devil.” Something else occurred to me. “Was Philly part of the deal?” His face stiffened, and I released a bitter breath. “Your side of the bargain looks richer by the minute. You get to train with the best architect in the country, I get to be valedictorian—”
“You get to live.”
“—and you get Philly, the girl of your choosing.”
“What? No.” Rowan took a step around the table, shaking his head. “Philly was my grandmother’s condition, not mine.”
I stepped back. “Your grandmother would have chosen Lucy Meriwether.”
“No, it’s true. That was her final requirement. I have to propose right after graduation and marry her within a year. She even made me show my intentions right away, to prove I’ll go through with it.”
My chest tightened. “A year? Why so fast?”
“So I’m trapped, of course.”
Mrs. Blackshaw had thought of everything—and Rowan had agreed to it. “You don’t seem to mind this particular part of the bargain. I’ve seen you with Philly.”
Rowan shook his head. He looked exhausted, shadows beneath his eyes. “I like Philly, but I’m not in love with her. The only reason I would ever marry Philly is to save your life.”
“Don’t!” I ordered, stepping back. “Don’t blame this on me! I’m not the one who agreed to your grandmother’s vile plan.”
“Valentine…” Rowan stepped closer, his head tilting with entreaty, begging me to understand. “My grandmother wants me married within a year because she knows if I’m not, I’ll run straight back to you.”
I stepped back toward the wall, shaking my head, trying to resist the warmth that always filled my veins whenever Rowan was near. I lifted my hands, trying to force it down, trying to force myself to be angry. “You realize what she’s done? She’s threatened to murder me—that’s basically what it would be! She’ll have someone lie against me—and you agreed to her foul bargain—”
“No!” Rowan’s own temper flared. “I went into it with my eyes wide open, fully aware! I thought about it for days—thought of every possibility—and only agreed when I was sure it was best for you, Valentine—for you, not me!”
“Oh, yes, I get to live! So very generous—”
“You get to escape! My final condition was that my grandmother buy your house. No one else would ever buy it, not with its history. You’d be trapped here forever. But my grandmother will pay a decent price for it—enough for you to start a new life. You can go to New York City and find Alvina Lunt, if that’s what you want. Start fresh where nobody knows about your past.”
I blinked, stunned. “Sell the house?”
“The property is valuable, and it’s yours now. Have you thought of that?”
I shook my head. “I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.”
“Of course you can. I’ll make sure she pays more than it’s worth.”
“No.” Mama had grown up in this house. Kneaded dough at that table. Bathed me in front of the fire, tapping my nose with a soapy finger.
“Valentine…” Rowan stepped closer, his tone softening. “I’ve barely slept, trying to think of a way to save you from the noose. And then it came to me—the answer. The only way you’ll ever live a normal life—a happy life—is to get away from this town. And now my grandmother is forced to pay for it. You can go anywhere you want and build a new life.”
My resolve melted when he looked at me that way. And I believed him. He truly believed he’d accepted his grandmother’s twisted bargain for my sake.
“You Blackshaws,” I whispered, trying to feel some resentment that wasn’t there. “Think you can manipulate the world and have anything you want.”
“You’re right,” Rowan admitted, stepping closer. “I’ve been spoiled all my life. Handed everything I want.”
I moved back, but hit the wall. And I was glad. I didn’t want any more distance between us.
Rowan took the final, slow step that brought him close enough to touch. Close enough to feel his warmth and see the gleam of firelight in his eyes. “But in this…” He shook his head, his eyelids heavy. “In this, I’m not getting what I want.” He reached up and touched my neck, his palm against my skin.
For several pulsing, tugging heartbeats we remained like that, his hand on my neck, both of us wondering if we dared do more.
He leaned closer and brushed his lips against mine. Just a touch, then he drew back.
I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe.
He kissed me again, a little longer, his lips full on mine, then pulled away.
I stood perfectly still, my heart thundering in my ears.
Then he kissed me again—and this time our mouths immediately molded to one another, warm and perfectly fitted, as if our lips had been made for this one purpose, for this tasting and breathing and exploring of one another. Our hands found places to settle—his fingers in my hair, my palm sliding up the curve of his neck, my other hand pulling at his waist. I heard his breathing, and my breathing, and our soft whimpers of surrender.
I leaned back, and the wall kept me upright.
“Run away with me,” Rowan whispered against my mouth. “Tonight. That’s all I want. That’s what I want.”
I kissed him long and deep, wanting the same.
“I have money,” he murmured through our kisses. “We can do this, Valentine. We can escape tonight.”
He kissed me until I thought I might faint, until it was only the tug of his lips and arms that kept me standing.
“Will you run away with me?” He kissed my temple, my cheek, my neck.
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Do you mean it?”
“Yes. Yes.”
Our lips finally stilled, and we clung to one another, our faces buried in each other’s necks and shoulders, our hearts thumping in unison, my fingers curled around his shirt to keep him close, one of his hands holding the back of my head.
This was impossible.
Yet, happening.
Rowan pulled back to search my face, and the intensity of his gaze took my breath away. “Do you mean it, Valentine? You’ll run away with me?”
“Yes,” I said thickly. Hungrily.
“This isn’t some mad impulse,” he said. “It’s what I’ve wanted all along. I only went along with my grandmother to protect you, until I could think this through.”
I heard his words but had a hard time caring or understanding. I kissed his soft lips, my hand pulling him close, and it was a while before we separated enough to speak.
“Valentine, I’ve lain awake every night and came up with two plans of my own. One for you and one for me.”
“One for you?” I murmured. His scent was intoxicating. I leaned my face into his neck and breathed.
“The first plan benefits me.” He tilted his head so I could kiss his neck. “We escape together. I have some money saved. I thought maybe … the two of us…” He moaned and lowered his lips to mine, pushing me back against the wall.
We lingered there, our mouths separating for breath, then finding each other again.
Finally, I whispered, “You were saying?”
He smiled slowly, placing his hands on either side of my face. “I was saying … would you like to go to Europe, Valentine?”
My eyes widened.
He gave a low laugh. “Does that mean yes?”
“It means yes,” I breathed.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” He brushed his lips against mine. “But I do have two plans, if you’ll recall. And the other plan benefits you, so you might want to hear it.”
“Benefits me?” My head felt sluggish with his body this close, his breath on my skin.
“Where my grandmother buys your
house and you escape on your own … and I take the apprenticeship.”
I pulled back, frowning. “And marry Philly?”
He avoided my eyes. “My grandmother does seem rather set on that part of the bargain.”
I gave an uneasy laugh. “You’re not serious?”
Rowan’s hands slid to my shoulders, his expression sobering. “If we run away, she’ll have that witness tell Sheriff Crane that you entered the stable with Birdy. You’ll be charged with murder and hunted down.”
I stood still, trying to understand. “But … we’ll be in Europe.”
His thumb stroked my collarbone. “Forever? Is that what you want, Valentine?”
My heart drummed inside my chest. “I don’t know,” I admitted. My eyes rose to meet his. “But I want to be with you, Rowan.”
His blue eyes flooded with emotion. “I want that too. But you have to be sure, Valentine. Because once we leave—once that witness speaks up—you can’t change your mind. You’ll spend the rest of your life on the run, looking over your shoulder.”
“But … with you,” I insisted, my heart racing.
“Yes, with me. But I’ve had two weeks to think this through and know it’s what I want. You don’t have that luxury. In a few days—the day after graduation—I’m supposed to propose to Philly. If I don’t, you’ll be arrested. But I won’t propose to Philly if I don’t intend to marry her. I saw what a broken engagement did to my grandmother. Which means we have to leave before then. And once we leave … we can never come back.”
“Two plans,” I said quietly, the romantic fog lifting. “One for me, one for you.”
“We can sail to Europe and change our names and never return. Or … we can go our separate ways. You won’t be accused of murder, and you’ll have money from your house. A great deal of money; I’ll make sure of that. You can go to New York City and start a new life. No murder charges. No looking over your shoulder.”
“Without you,” I murmured.
“Without me. But it’s your best option, Valentine. I won’t pretend otherwise.”
The kitchen had turned dark and cold. I left Rowan’s warmth to add a log to the fire. I prodded it into a blaze, then stood in front of it, hugging my chest, trying to think.
Girl at the Grave Page 21